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fusit  Hittle  Climgs! 


ELIZABETH  GENEREAUX 


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41X120 


COPYRIGHT.   1919 
BY   ELIZABETH   GENEREAUX 


ANDERSON   PRINTING  CO. 
SACRAMENTO 


Contents 

1.  My    Library '. 7 

2.  Aladdin's    Lamp 8 

3.  Out  Into  the  Mountain 10 

4.  The  Little  House  Among  the  Pines 12 

5.  The  Hidden  Garden 14 

6.  On  the  Trail 16 

7.  Tides    17 

8.  Selections  from  "Wonderland  of  Nature" 24 

9.  Story  of  a  Little  White  Butterfly 30 

10.  The  Message  of  an  Old-Fashioned  Nosegay 32 

11.  Pauline's  Wish 33 

12.  The  Answer  of  the  Star 31 

13.  Pandean   Pipes 29 

14.  The  Balloon  Dance 34 

15.  The  Snowflake  Dance 33 

16.  The    Siren 34 

17.  The  Birth  of  the  American  Flag 35 

18.  Over  on  Lake  Washington 38 

19.  My  Prim  Primrose 36 

20.  My    Oratorio 39 


JCo  Jfrancejai 

n  toisif) :  mh  M&pivatiorC^  boice 
^xtatit^  lottj  a  treajsureb  name ; 
n  spirit  tfjat  mp  ijeart  intujfeb 
3J  rijfe  to  catcl)  tfte  flame. 


My  Library. 


COME  friends,  sit  by  my  fire-flushed  hearth 
By  book-lined  walls;  concurrent  populous  shelves; 
'Neath  the  sun-rayed  lamp,  subservient  to  our  needs. 
Here,  the  ruby  rugs  from  Persian  looms 
Rose-dip  the  shadows;  and  marble  forms 
That  view  these  feasts  of  friendship 
Stand  shadow-ward;  their  moveless  visions 
Fraternize  with  treasures  on  the  walls. 
Lift  the  transparent  veil! 
Free  spontaneous  friends! 

And  in  companionship  spend  unrivalled  hours. 
Conversable  friends;  generators  of  deathless  thoughts, 
Tho  your  prolific  pens  lie  still, 
We  behold  you  visible  to  the  eye. 
Integral  minds  that  pulse  and  flow, 
You  lend  immeasurable  hours. 
Friends  from  our  books,  faithful  and  sincere 
Seal  the  diffusive  bond  of  fellowship  here. 


—7— 


Aladdin's  Lamp. 

There  is  a  land  where  dreams  come  true 
Where  dreams  and  thoughts  are  things; 
And  if  I  rub  Aladdin's  Lamp 
My  wish  appears  on  wings. 

So  I  will  rub  the  lamp  tonight, 

This  marvelous  magic  dish, 

And  presto!   change!   with  eagle  speed 

Behold!  my  cherished  wish. 

A  twilight-shadowed  room  appears. 
Its  walls  around,  book-filled. 
Exhale  the  fragrance  of  the  rose; 
An  essence  heart-distilled. 

I  sit  enwrapped  in  deep  arm  chair 
Beside  the  fire-wood  glow; 
A  wish,  and  then  I  see  and  touch 
The  hearts  that  come  and  go. 

A  wish:  a  true  and  faithful  friend 
Within  a  frame  of  old; 
A  picture  of  the  unalloyed 
The  element  of  gold. 

A  wish:  a  form  the  Sculptor  made 
Her  mother-worth  He  knew; 
Prom  crucible,  the  courage  guides 
Her  hand  that  chisels  true. 

A  wish:  and  comes  a  brisk  sea-breeze 
That  sweeps  me  to  my  feet; 
I  hold  my  face  up  to  the  wind  * 
Its  freshened  smile  to  greet. 


-8— 


A  wish:  a  glimmer  of  the  dawn; 
The  color  of  the  rose; 
A  wholesome  bonny  face  appears 
A  face  that  sunshine  throws. 

A  wish:  and  Inspiration's  voice 
Breathes  low  a  treasured  name; 
A  spirit  that  my  heart  infused 
I  rise  to  catch  the  flame. 

A  wish:  a  clear,  distinct  mirage 
Floats  silently  in  air; 
A  wilderness;  oasis  green; 
The  peaceful  waters  there. 

A  wish:  and  childish  voices  float 
Across  the  bridge  of  years; 
A  knock,  a  step,  three  pairs  of  arms- 
My  dearest  wish  appears! 


—9— 


Out  Into  the  Mountain. 

Up  the  rugged  winding  highway 
Where  the  rocks  view  hills  below. 
Where  the  pines  are  loving  guardsmen 
Where  the  grape  and  salal  grow, 
There  I  love  to  pause  and  ponder 
Breathe  the  balm  that  nature  brings; 
For  a  Sinai  is  about  me 
And  the  thoughts  that  lie  in  things. 

There  are  tongues  in  yonder  pine  trees 
There  are  tongues  in  distant  hill; 
Tho  the  air  is  fraught  with  silence 
Comes  a  voice  my  soul  to  fill. 
Up  above  a  bird  is  flying 
Far  away  the  sea  breaks  high; 
Down  below  the  smoke  is  rising 
From  the  homes  that  peaceful  lie. 

Slender  trees  that  stand  together 

Ever  pointing  to  the  high, 

Piny  hands  that  clasp  in  friendship 

Blended  close  against  the  sky, 

Will  you  speak  that  all  may  hear  you 

In  what  forge  is  friendship  wrought? 

And  the  answer  comes,  "The  true  ones. 

Are  the  friends  that  come  unsought." 

Now  the  bird  sweeps  low  in  passing 
And  he  wings  a  message  clear: 
The  Voice  that  guides  the  universe 
Says,  "Trust  and  have  no  fear." 
And  when  you  reach  Gethsemane 
In  that  midnight  hour  alone, 
There  comes  a  Voice  of  majesty; 
"Sleep  on  now,  the  hour  is  come." 


—10— 


There  are  tongues  in  flowing  river 

As  it  winds  out  to  the  sea, 

And  its  voice  is  hopeful,  cheery 

For  it  sings  out  joy  to  me. 

Then  out  where  the  sea  is  breaking 

And  the  rocks  resist  the  tide, 

The  wild-toned  wind  pipes  heartily: 

"Ahoy!     Stand  by!     I  will  guide." 

There  are  tongues  in  fern  and  bramble 
There  are  tongues  in  leaf  and  bough; 
There  are  voices  in  the  woodland 
I  am  listening  to  them  now, 
So  when  the  twilight  falls  on  me 
And  the  shadows  that  belong, 
I'll  hear  the  blended  harmony 
Of  those  voices  in  a  song. 


-11- 


The  Little  House  Among  the  Pines. 

The  mountain-top;  where  winding  trail 
Glides  upward  where  the  white  clouds  sail, 
And  fern-clad  banks,  a  fairyland 
In  silence  deep  the  woods  command. 
Protects  with  love  that  close  entwines 
The  little  house  among  the  pines. 

And  morn,  mesmeric  hours  bless 
With  airs  that  breathe  in  fulsomeness. 
The  pungent  cedar;  redolent 
Of  ancient  balm  the  wise  men  sent, 
With  frankincense  your  flame  combines, 
Oh  little  house  among  the  pines. 


—12— 


Across  the  space  to  yonder  ridge 
The  sky  looks  down;  a  rainbow  bridge 
Of  colors  gold  and  red  and  brown 
Is  resting  where  the  sky  looks  down. 
The  autumn-jeweled  vale  inshrines 
The  little  house  among  the  pines. 

The  hillside  maples  spread  their  hands 
In  worship  for  the  fruitful  lands; 
The  purple  grapes  that  cluster  low 
With  salal  green  and  sword  fern  grow; 
Enfolded  rests  within  the  vines 
The  little  house  among  the  pines. 

With  nimble  feet  the  boughs  among 
The  chipmunks  chatter  to  their  young; 
And  when  the  woods  for  winter  dress 
The  green  firs  guard  in  tenderness; 
A  great  protecting  love  is  thine 
Oh  little  house  beneath  the  pine. 

When  eve  has  kissed  the  amber  crest 
And  zephyrs  lulled  the  day  to  rest, 
Within  the  walls  the  pine  knots  spark 
And  cheer  the  hearts  when  night  is  dark; 
Of  friendship  true  thy  window  shines 
Oh  little  house  among  the  pines. 


-13- 


The  Hidden  Garden. 

Crouched  low  behind  a  city  street 
Where  lonely  backs  of  houses  meet, 
A  little  home  with  stricken  face 
Sacrificed  her  rightful  place. 

Ask  the  walls;  they  know. 

They  know  that  in  this  tangled  vine 
Shadow'd  forms:  the  tuneful  Nine 
Lurk  to  chant  with  timbre'd  tongue 
Of  scars  and  scenes  that  lie  among. 
Ask  the  trees;  they  know. 

They  know  that  linnets  nested  there 
Within  the  jasmin'd  shade  where 
Babes  have  slept  and  mothers  sang 
And  echoes  creep  where  voices  rang. 
Ask  the  birds;  they  know. 

They  know  that  ceaseless  constancy 
Breathed  a  home  within  the  tree; 
The  thrills  the  builded  nest  awoke, 
Made  a  mother's  heart  of  oak. 

Ask  the  leaves;  they  know. 

They  know  the  gentle  breeze  of  spring 
Coaxed  the  tender  leaves  to  cling; 
But  winter's  cold  and  chilly  blast 
Scattered  far  and  wide  and  fast. 
Ask  the  stars;  they  know. 

They  know  that  in  Gethsemane 
Throbbed  a  form  on  bended  knee; 
And  prostrate  with  consuming  heat 
The  fires  surged  to  quench  defeat. 
Ask  God;  He  knows. 


—14— 


He  knows  that  in  this  hidden  place 
Smiles  a  flower-like  mother  face; 
Yielding  to  divine  love-fire 
Her  thoughts,  her  words,  her  deeds  inspire. 
Ask  the  winds;  they  know. 

They  know  that  once  a  fertile  field 
Held  its  flower'd  face  to  yield 
To  shifting  breezes  wasting  breath 
That  slowly  crushed  to  fatal  death. 
Ask  life;  it  knows. 

Grinds,  grinds  the  mill  of  timie  so  slow 
CHiameleon  days  that  come  and  go ; 
So  bound  together  that  plastic  hours 
Wax  and  wane  with  sun  and  showers. 
But  life  and  change  and  growth  are  one, 
And  death  is  just  the  life  to  come. 


-15— 


On  The  Trail. 

The  mother,  weary  with  scrip  and  staff, 

Searching  beyond  the  heights  that  rise  and  dip. 

Looks  backward  at  the  rocky  road 

That  winds  and  winds  to  childhood. 

And  the  white  milestones  standing  by  the  way 

Mark  smiles  and  tears  where  buried  treasures  lie; 

But  from  darkest  night,  the  rising  day 

Gives  pause;  to  worship  gladly  in  the  sky; 

Dim  eyes  turn  eastward  and  disappears  the  rod! 

Resounds  the  Crusaders'  cry! 

"It  is  the  will  of  Gk)d." 

Wait  pilgrim,  weary  not  thyself  but  rest; 

Linger  within  the  hills  that  lie  before. 

Look  backward  at  the  flowery  path 

That  winds  and  winds  to  childhood, 

And  the  nine  roses  growing  by  the  way 

Mark  tasks  and  joys  thy  loving  vision  clears. 

Now  on  starry  ground  thy  sunny  day 

Shadows  'neath  thy  feet  the  doubts  and  fears; 

Turn  glad  eyes  upward  and  thru  thee  sunshine  flows. 

Look  up  where  God's  blessing  is — 

Thou  art  the  full-blown  rose. 


—16— 


Tides. 

Upon  wet  sands  beside  the  sea, 
The  flooding  tides  tossed  carelessly 
A  dead,  inert,  brown-tangled  mass 
Of  snaky  kelp  and  salt  sea  grass. 

Then  backed  the  tides  on  conquest  bent, 

"Look!"  they  cried,  "the  sea  hath  sent 

A  goodly  ship  with  us  to  play 

We'll  bear  her  by  the  sands  to  stay." 

So  on  its  back  the  flooding  tide 

Gave  the  ship  her  death-bound  ride. 

The  moon's  full  face  looked  down  that  night 

And  saw  the  ship  in  sorry  plight; 

Upon  the  white  sands'  gleaming  breast 

The  tides  had  placed  the  ship  to  rest; 

As  dead,  inert,  as  the  slimy  kelp, 

Her  stricken  keel  bereft  of  help. 

With  tall,  gaunt  masts  flung  to  the  stars 
Her  timbers  moaned,  "My  hull  and  spars 
Are  naught  but  refuse  of  the  sea! 
Why  should  this  sorrow  come  to  me? 

"When  I  was  built  my  keel  was  laid 
Like  Argo's  from  stout  timbers  made; 
My  ribs  and  sides  were  braced  with  knees 
All  master-hewn  from  oaken  trees; 
From  stem  to  stern,  from  truck  to  keel 
No  flaw  nor  error  could  I  feel. 
Of  Talking  Oak  they  built  my  bow 
That  I  might  turn  my  pointing  prow 
With  words  of  wisdom  for  my  crew 
To  guide  them  on  the  ocean  blue; 
As  Jason  led  with  buckled  zest 
The  Argo's  voyage  on  her  quest." 


—17- 


She  turned  her  bow  up  to  the  stars 
And  cried  aloud,  "My  keel  and  spars 
Are  naught  but  refuse  of  the  sea! 
Why  should  this  sorrow  come  to  me?" 

She  trembled  and  her  thoughts  resumed 

And  compassed  points  with  gladness  tu|ned. 

"A  sea-gull  white  I  proved  to  be 

And  many  came  to  look  at  me; 

Then  proudly  down  the  ways  I  slipped 

And  eagerly  the  water  dipped." 

Once  more  she  quivered  with  delight 

As  she  recalled  the  happy  sight 

Of  waving  flags  and  swelling  notes 

Of  gripping  thrills  and  cheering  throats. 

A  hand  had  clutched  her  aching  side 

She  looked — it  was  the  creeping  tide. 

She  strained  her  masts  out  to  the  stars 
And  wailed  in  pain,  "My  keel  and  spars 
Are  naught  but  refuse  of  the  sea ! 
Why  should  this  sorrow  come  to  me?" 

On  vagrant,  fitful  bed  she  lay 
And  dreamed  of  how  that  happy  day 
She  raised  her  anchor  with  the  tide 
And  started  on  her  life-bound  ride. 
"My  master  paced  the  deck  at  night 
And  ordered  sails  all  snug  and  tight. 
With  side-lights  shining  red  and  green 
I  scanned  ahead  with  vision  keen; 
Then  wing  and  wing  or  on  the  wind 
Or  sails  for  shifting  breezes  trimmed, 
I  sailed  with  him  so  faithfully 
To  every  port  on  every  sea." 

Her  voice  was  carried  to  the  stars 
She  cried  aloud,  "My  sides  and  spars 
Are  naught  but  refuse  of  the  sea! 
Why  should  this  sorrow  come  to  me? 
—18— 


"When  I  was  leader  of  the  fleet 

My  wake  they  never  chanced  to  meet; 

Until  one  dark,  destructive  night 

My  sister-ship  sailed  out  of  sight; 

The  rageful  master  madly  swore 

He'd  sail  the  sea  with  me  no  more. 

So  when  we  reached  the  port  of  home 

He  left  my  aching  soul  alone. 

In  depths  untouched  by  line  or  lead 

My  wounded  heart  lay  cold  and  dead." 

She  shivered  on  the  fog-gripped  shore 

And  moaned,  "I'll  roam  the  sea  no  more." 

"No  more  I'll  sail  beneath  the  stars 
And  wreckage  are  my  hull  and  spars; 
I'm  naught  but  refuse  of  the  sea! 
Why  should  this  sorrow  come  to  me?" 

Beneath  the  slow  tide's  potent  hand 
A  cutting  voice  rose  from  the  sand. 
The  sea-tossed  kelp,  the  sport  of  wave 
A  scornful  laugh  the  wrecked  ship  gave; 
"Oh  bitter  thoughts  that  ebb  and  flow 
That  hatches  fetter  down  below, 
Unclose  and  breathe  the  fresh  salt  airs 
A  fetid  bilge  your  life  ensnares; 
Benighted  prow!  disordered  brain! 
Raise  your  useless  anchor  chain; 
Let  winds  and  squalls  and  tempests  blow 
Forget  yourself  and  service  know." 

"Medusa-headed  octopus 
What  right  have  you  to  sting  me  thus? 
With  cargoes  rare  my  sides  were  filled 
With  every  mile  my  log-line  thrilled." 


—19- 


The  kelp-born  twisted  serpents  swayed 

And  sharply  hissed,  "You  are  afraid! 

Your  woeful  words  are  poisoned  breath 

With  subtle  sting  that  carry  death 

In  every  part  of  deck  and  hold; 

To  death!  your  life-blood  has  been  sold. 

The  tone  of  your  soliloquy 

Is  like  the  pounding  of  the  sea 

And  wrecks,  its  labored  pain  brings  forth 

As  true  the  point  that  seeks  the  north. 

What  call  you  service,  lubber-head. 

With  patience  go  where  you  are  led?" 

"My  master's  hand  was  firm  and  bold 
I  loved  his  wishes  to  uphold; 
We  sailed  beneath  the  summer  moon 
Together  faced  the  mad  typhoon." 

"You  self-sufficient  clouded  wreck 
Who  walked  again  your  reeking  deck?" 
Her  voice  half-drowned  in  crashing  wave 
The  affronted  ship,  an  answer  gave: 
"Derisive  heads,  do  not  condemn 
Unfriendly  hands  then  set  my  helm; 
Once  more  my  ropes  a  master  knew 
Once  more  my  prow  the  water  threw. 
When  fell  a  stranger's  hand  on  me 
My  keel  felt  heavy  in  the  sea; 
And  deep  in  black  and  grimy  smoke 
Before  the  dawn  my  spirit  broke. 

Thru  smoke  my  spirit  to  the  stars 
Gave  plaint;  my  prow  and  weary  spars 
Are  naught  but  refuse  of  the  sea! 
Why  should  this  sorrow  come  to  me? 


-20— 


Close  wrapped  in  fog,  my  soul  aghast 
The  captain  saw  me  sinking  fast; 
He  cried,  'The  ship  has  sprung  a  leak! 
The  shore  and  safety  we  must  seek! 
The  tub's  no  good,  her  day  is  done, 
No  more  she'll  hear  the  chanty  sung.' 
I  watched  them  moving  out  of  sight 
And  longed  to  make  a  sea-gull's  flight; 
My  brain  and  soul  were  weather-bound 
My  fate  led  on  the  sand  to  pound. 
Alone  they  left  me  on  the  seas 
A  victim  of  the  tides  and  breeze. 

"No  power  left,  no  mortal  help 

What  could  I  do,  accusing  kelp?" 

No  answer  save  the  wave's  refrain 

That  sobbed  and  spread  and  ebbed  again. 

Mute  anguish  stilled  the  voice  aboard 
Her  ropes  and  sails  with  one  accord 
Recurrent  swayed  in  palsied  tone 
A  helpless  soul  in  posture  prone. 
The  midnight  hour  was  still;  the  ship 
Like  gull  whose  flying  wings  are  clipped 
Lay  prostrate,  passive,  dull  and  dead 
The  frenzied  tempest,  windward  fled. 
A  voice  crept  from  the  chastened  sea: 
"A  well  built  ship,  her  keel  is  free; 
Place  hawsers  strong  on  every  side 
I  think  she'll  float  this  very  tide." 

Unfathomed  longings  huddled  close 

The  disconcerted  ship  arose. 

She  moved!  she  thrilled!  the  tempest-tossed 

Was  riding  safe!  she  was  not  lost! 


—21— 


Beneath  her  keel  a  restless  flood 
Stirred  to  effort  seething  blood; 
The  still  small  voice  of  flooding  tide 
Soothed  and  pressed  her  feverish  side; 
"Now  heave  the  lead  and  soundings  take 
Unfurl  the  sails  and  courses  make." 
Rang  loud  a  master's  voice  again 
New  life  infused  with  steps  of  men; 
A  stimulated  spirit  flew 
A  marvel  to  her  busy  crew; 
And  in  the  north  a  gleaming  star 
Sent  her  guiding  beam  afar. 

"My  helm,  my  scepter  to  conform 
To  ride  the  wind;  direct  the  storm; 
To  breast  the  wave,  to  sway  the  tide, 
Will  wing  me  o'er  the  ocean  wide. 

Oh  friendly  kelp,  in  waters  deep. 

Is  your  life  futile,  incomplete, 

Detached  like  drifting  grains  of  sand 

Or  rocks  from  yonder  fog-tipped  land? 

Or  do  you  seek  an  unseen  Pole 

Where  endless  horizoned  waters  roll; 

Or  down  in  gloomy  surging  caves 

Aelous  fetters  struggling  waves? 

Twelve  tides  stretched  wide  their  weary  length 

With  steadfast  purpose^  gave  you  strength 

That  I  might  find  myself  again; 

My  way  now  lies  with  fellow-men." 

Within  her  hold  a  muffled  voice 
Responded,  "Service  was  my  choice; 
A  re-created  vision  laid 
From  useless  kelp  to  potash  made. 


The  lights  still  watch  with  changing  tide 
To  guide  you  on  your  homeward  ride; 
Secure,  your  wing  will  lead  the  flecks 
Thru  Dark  Blue  Dashers'  floating  rocks; 
When  Orpheus  caught  his  harp  and  played, 
The  raging  storm  and  tempest  stayed; 
The  boiling  waves  released  her  bow 
And  sobbing  sank  beneath  the  prow. 
Your,  safe  return,  oh  ship  of  peace. 
From  conquest  with  the  Golden  Fleece." 
The  master  paced  the  deck  that  night. 
And  silence  heard,  "My  sea-gull  white." 


—23— 


Selections  from  the  Play 

"Wonderland  of  Nature." 
(1915) 

Spirit  of  Opportunity 

'Dear  friends,  great  and  small 

Who  walk  along  life's  way, 

Trudging  with  solid  purpose  to  reach  the  goal, 

Will  you  not  pause 

And  view  the  v/andering  spirits  of  this  earth 

Who  try  each  step  all  mortals  to  surround? 

Two  factions  are  they  and  round  and  round 

With  never-ceasing  undulations  each 

Try  to  overcome  the  other." 


Spirit  of  the  Wind 

"From  a  lone  restless  home  in  great  haste  I  flee 
The  world  calls  me  here  to  battle  and  strife. 
I  come  with  a  rush  or  with  slow-sounding  glee. 
My  cry  you  must  heed:  the  battle  of  life. 
My  lightnings  all  flash  and  my  loud  thunders  rattle 
My  dark  clouds  I  call  and  the  tears  fall  like  rain. 
With  fierce  fighting  I,  with  Happiness  battle; 
With  low,  thundrous  murmurs  I  creep  back  again.' 

'From  lonely  heights  to  darkest  depths 
In  the  dim,  dark  quiet  of  night, 
I  stir  like  a  pulse — 
I  wail  at  your  door — 
I  creep — 
I  Rush— 

I  ROAR." 


—24— 


Spirit  of  Home 

"By  the  hearth  of  the  lofty  palace, 
By  the  steps  of  the  lowly  cot, 
In  the  mountains  high  and  the  valleys  low 
On  the  sands  of  the  desert  hot, 
The  Spirit  of  Home,  I  wander  wide 
E'en  sail  the  raging  main; 
In  peaceful  life,  in  war  and  strife 
In  fields  of  waving  grain. 
I  seek  my  way  to  the  frozen  north 
I  bask  in  the  southland  clime; 
High  or  low  my  spirit  all  know 
From  beginning  to  end  of  time. 
Happy  companions  five  have  I 
Who  love  their  Spirit  of  Home; 
They  quickly  flee  when  strife  they  see, 
Sadly  the  earth  they  roam. 
Come  Patience  and  Prudence,  warm  this  heart; 
Come  Laughter  and  Joy  so  gay; 
With  Kindness  sweet  the  World  to  meet, 
Come  waken  this  Spirit  today." 


Orpheus  Sings  With  His  Lute 

(Music,  "Beethoven's  Spirit  Waltz.") 

"When  Orpheus  plays  his  lute  with  lightest  fingers, 
All  Nature  then  awakes  with  sweetest  singers. 
Spirit  of  Moutains,  Spirit  of  Fountains, 
Spirit  of  Faith  in  Powers  above; 
Spirit  of  Wisdom,  Spirit  of  Love. 

'O'er  the  troubled  sea  the  notes  are  ringing 
In  the  balmy  sky  the  birds  are  singing; 
Spirit  of  Flowers  in  leafy  bowers. 
Bow  before  all  Nature's  work. 
Spirit  of  Hope,  Spirit  of  Might, 
Spirit  of  Darkness,  Spirit  of  Light." 


-25— 


The  Spirit  of  Music 

(Music,  Rubenstein's  Melody  in  F.) 

"Here  dwells  the  Spirit  of  Music  so  sweet, 
Music  of  sadness,  music  of  gladness; 
Telling  of  youth,  age  and  old  Time  so  fleet. 
Singing  of  calm  and  storm. 
Here  dwells  the  Spirit  of  Music  so  gay, 
Music  of  glad  time,  music  of  sad  time; 
Telling  of  childhood  and  love's  perfect  day, 
Singing  of  night  and  morn. 
Tales  of  the  old  time  and  beauty  adorning 
Birds  singing  sweetly  and  dew  of  the  morning. 
Oh,  Spirit  of  Music  who  dwells  everywhere. 
Spirit  of  Music  who  banishes  care. 
Lyre  of  Apollo  with  strings  tuned  for  mirth. 
Waft  thru  the  clear  air  message  to  Earth, 
Tuning  each  soul  to  reveal  chords  of  gladness 
Melodies  rich  and  rare. 


Spirit  of  the  World 

"Spirit  of  Dawn!  oh  Spirit  of  Dawn! 
Hear  my  cry!  the  night  is  long! 
Upon  my  fevered  brow  thy  rosy  finger  press 
With  cooling  touch;  a  soft  caress 
In  darkness  as  I  wander  on. 

"Spirit  of  Dawn!  oh  Spirit  of  Dawn! 
Hear  my  cry!  the  World's  old  song! 
Awake!  awake!  this  hour  choose! 
I  cannot — will  not —  courage  lose 
Forever  in  a  shadowed  throng." 


Spirit  of  Dawn 

'I  am  the  smile  of  God  that  greets 
The  world  in  tenderness; 
That  mother-smile  o'er  a  little  babe 
A  lingering  caress. 

I  follow  the  steps  of  nights'  darkest  hour 
With  muffled  tread  I  creep; 
Bringing  the  dew  to  each  waking  flower 
Light  from  steep  to  steep. 
My  path  is  a  shaft  of  changing  lights 
My  staff  a  torch  of  red, 
To  guide  the  smile  of  coming  day. 
When  darkest  night  has  fled. 
Now  the  eastern  sky  is  all  aglow, 
What  fairy  fete  is  this? 
Sunbeams  dancing  to  and  fro 
Each  little  flower  to  kiss. 
With  twinkling  steps,  up,  up  they  come, 
Dance  little  spirits  gay, 
Bring  warmth  and  light  In  revel  bright 
To  all  the  world  today." 


—27- 


®o  Pauline 

iHp  iaivp  mite  of  jfpmpatfjp 
'Wiitb  lobe  i)  gii\)t  ti)es;e  siongs;  to  tfjee; 
jFor  pour  graceful  arms(  anb  ttDinfeling  toej( 
gour  rfjptfjmic  cfjamtjf  anb  baintp  pout, 

(Collected  in  igii) 


Pandean  Pipes. 


One  early  morn  in  an  ancient  wood. 

While  yet  the  sparking  dew 

On  leaf  and  flower  like  diamonds  stood 

Radiant  with  rainbow  hue, 

There  met,  the  musical  sounds  of  air 

And  whispers  of  wood  and  field; 

A  choir  of  silver-toned  resonance  rare 

Harmonious  tones  revealed. 

Prom  the  notes  divine  which  now  arose 

The  dainty  Syrinx  was  bom; 

As  gentle  as  the  brooklet  flows, 

As  pure  as  early  mom. 

Beloved  of  Satyr  Nymph  and  Faun 

Her  witchery  she  spread; 

Danced  each  day  from  dawn  to  dawn 

The  willing  sprites  she  led. 

Now  Pan  one  day  with  lovelit  eyes 

Implored  a  kiss  divine; 

She  ran  away  with  frightened  cries. 

Nor  let  his  arms  entwine. 

O'er  grass  and  knoll  in  haste  she  fled. 

With  sobs  of  fright  she  cried; 

To  the  river  bank  in  terror  led 

With  water  nymphs  to  hide. 

His  strides  were  swift;  his  breath  drew  near, 

He  paused;   a  plaintive  strain 

Arose  above  the  water  clear, 

A  murmuring  refrain. 

Charmed  were  the  ears  of  Pan  to  hear 

Such  music  sweet  ascend. 

He  gathered  reeds  with  voices  clear 

Their  harmony  to  blend. 

In  honor  of  this  nymph  so  good 

He  placed  them  side  by  side; 

And  ever  thru  Arcadian  wood 

The  notes  of  Pan  float  wide. 


_29— 


\ 


The  Story  of  a  Little  White  Butterfly. 

A  cocoon  brown  all  winter  lay 

Sleeping  soundly  the  time  away; 

When  softly  and  sweetly  the  sounds  of  spring 

Like  music  thru  the  shell  crept  in. 

Awakened  the  beautiful  spirit  there 

And  quickly  it  rose  in  the  warm,  fresh  air. 

Beneath  the  cloudless  summer  sky 
Floated  the  little  white  butterfly; 
Contented  and  warm  in  the  sun's  bright  rays 
Gay  and  happy  the  long,  bright  days; 
Caressed  and  petted  by  the  zephyrs'  kiss 
Dreaming  of  naught  but  perfect  bliss. 

Now  came  scudding  across  the  sky 
Some  dark,  dark  clouds  hurrying  by; 
The  wind  soon  rose  to  a  hurricane. 
The  leaves  all  bowed  to  the  pelting  rain; 
The  frightened  butterfly  quickly  chose 
A  shelter  under  a  red,  red  rose. 

"How  cruel  are  the  wind  and  rain!" 
She  cried  and  sighed  and  cried  again. 
"The  sun  forever  has  gone  away, 
My  wings,  these  enemies  will  flay. 
No  one  cares  if  alone  I  sigh, 
No  one  cares  if  alone  I  die." 

A  soft  voice  made  her  look  around 
Curious  and  wondering  whence  came  the  sound. 
"Look  up!"  said  the  rose  and  rosily  smiled. 
Beneath  the  smile  she  grew  warm  and  mild; 
"Wjhere  you  are  sheltered  is  happiness  found, 
Love  and  friendship  forever  around." 


—30— 


Never  before  was  grass  so  green. 
Never  had  such  flowers  been  seen; 
The  rain  drops  glistened  like  morning  dew, 
Gailj--  soon  the  sun  peeped  thru. 
Content  and  happy  in  shade  and  sun 
She  danced  and  danced  'till  day  was  done. 


The  Answer  of  the  Star. 

From  the  sparkling  depths  of  a  starry  sky 
Safe  on  a  white  cloud's  wing; 
Sailing  from  my  place  on  high 
Wands  of  magic  nine  I  bring. 

With  the  mystic  birth  of  a  little  babe 
Is  bom  a  magic  power; 
Infinite  and  heaven  made 
As  any  little  flower. 

From  the  guiding  hand  of  Clio  fair 
I  bring  her  power  to  thee; 
Erato's  wand,  love  gives  fond  care; 
Calliope's  sweet  story  see. 

From  Melpomone's  hand,  tragedy's  pose, 
The  wand  lends  firm  restrain. 
Euterpe's  breath  in  harmony  rose 
Terpsichore  to  claim. 

With  the  sacred  wand  of  Polhymnia's  power 
Urania's  star  beyond. 
The  laughter  gay  from  Thalia's  bower 
From  each  a  magic  wand. 

From  the  daughters  nine  of  Memory 
And  Jupiter  so  bold. 
Spinning  on  their  golden  wheel, 
The  Fates  your  life  unfold. 
—31— 


The  Message  of  an  Old-fashioned 
Nosegay. 

In  an  old-fashioned  garden  one  old-fashioned  day 
An  old-fashioned  maiden  went  tripping; 
She  nodded  and  smiled  as  she  danced  on  her  way 
At  the  birds  and  the  sunshine  and  the  flowers  gay 
Whose  honey  the  bees  were  sipping. 

There  were  roses  and  lilies  and  pansies  to  meet 
All  wet  with  the  dew  of  the  morning; 
Marigolds  yellow  and  violets  sweet, 
Forgetmenots  blue  the  new  skies  greet; 
Their  beauty  the  garden  adorning. 

Now  a  red  rose  for  love  and  pansies  for  thought, 
Their  faces  show  plainly  their  meaning; 
The  grief  of  the  marigold  by  no  one  is  sought 
Lilies  pure;  violets  modesty  taught. 
The  sun  o'er  all  was  gleaming. 

In  this  old-fashioned  garden  the  old-fashioned  air 
With  mystery  deep  was  teeming; 
So  this  old-fashioned  maiden  happy  and  fair 
Lay  down  midst  her  flowers  so  sweet  and  rare 
And  soon  was  deeply  dreaming. 

Now  awakened  these  flowers  to  gently  creep; 
Love,  modesty,  purity,  reigning; 
Over  the  garden  to  take  a  wee  peep 
At  their  dear  little  mistress  in  slumber  deep. 
Her  life  each  flower  was  claiming. 

From  the  violet  modest,  a  spirit  arose, 
The  marigold's  grief  beguiling; 
The  lily,  pansy  and  forgetmenot  chose 
The  love  from  the  heart  of  the  red,  red  rose 
For  love  conquers  all  with  smiling. 


Pauline's  Wish. 

"Oh  mirror  dear!    I  wish  that  I 
Such  power  had  as  you, 
Smiles  truth  and  joy  reflect 
Tints  of  every  hue. 
Oh  mirror  dear!    I  wish  that  I 
Into  your  depths  could  creep, 
I'd  call  and  quickly  down  to  me 
Your  magic  power  would  leap. 

"Oh  silver  star!    I  wish  that  I 

Such  power  had  as  you; 

Light,  sun  and  earth  reflect, 

Circling  walls  of  blue. 

Oh  silver  star!    I  wish  that  I 

Could  in  the  heavens  creep. 

And  close-pressed  to  my  longing  heart 

Your  magic  power  I'd  keep." 


The  Snowflake  Dance. 

In  silence  deep  I  don  my  gown 
Far  off  in  the  depths  of  sky, 
With  swiftest  speed  to  hurry  down 
On  the  cold,  damp  earth  to  lie. 

Soon  on  my  journey  long  I  flee 
With  joy  I  dance  along; 
With  merry  glee  and  laughter  free 
I  join  a  merry  throng. 

We  dance  and  sing  as  down  we  go. 
For  many  curveting  miles; 
Until  on  earth  in  blanket  white. 
We  lay  with  sparkling  smiles. 


-33— 


Tlie  Siren. 

A  great  black  rock  beside  the  sea 
Liike  a  storm  cloud  in  the  sky, 
Repulsed  the  storming  ocean, 
A  Sampson  bold  on  high. 

The  booming  surf  forever  tolled 

A  deep,  melodious  cry; 

As  the  thundrous  tones  of  an  organ 

Rolls  its  way  out  to  the  sky. 

( 

Far  on  a  wide,  projecting  ledge 
There  stood  a  maiden  fair; 
Ever  and  ever  she  danced  in  glee 
Combing  her  golden  hair. 

The  surf  dashed  high,  the  spray  flew  wide 
To  mortals  all  beware! 
But  ever  and  ever  the  siren  smiled, 
Combing  her  golden  hair. 


The  Balloon  Dance. 

Merrily,  merrily  up  we  go, 
Blue  and  red  together; 
Yellow  and  white  in  dance  delight 
And  whirl  as  waving  feather. 

We  turn  and  twist  in  merry  glee, 
Our  heads  oft  bob  together; 
Up  and  down,  round  and  round. 
We  dance  a  merry  measure. 


—34— 


Birth  of  tlie  American  Flag. 

Afloat  in  black  obscurity 

The  world  in  chaos  slept; 

And  from  the  nest  of  purity 

Love  leaped  far  into  the  depth. 

By  arrows  and  torch  he  pierced  and  tried 

To  give  love  and  joy  to  all; 

O'er  the  conquering  flag  from  side  to  side 

Love's  red  to  each  doth  call. 

Purity,  born  of  Juno  at  early  dawn 

O'er  the  awakening  world  in  innocence  peeped; 

As  the  frightened  eyes  of  a  startled  fawn 

Gazed  afar  before  it  leaped. 

She  smiled  far  down  on  sea  and  shore, 

On  men  who  fought  for  right; 

She  stretched  her  arms  on  the  flag  they  bore. 

And  led  them  in  the  fight. 

Truth,  from  the  height  of  the  noonday  sun. 

Hangs  in  soft,  voluminous  folds, 

And  masks  the  earth  as  a  cloistered  nun 

Is  hidden  by  the  veil  she  holds. 

Ever  unfolding  with  time  so  true, 

She  watches  each  wrong  and  right; 

High  in  the  flag  her  azure  blue 

Is  set  with  stars  of  night. 


-35— 


My  Prim  Primrose. 

Gladioli  and  daisy, 
Carnation,  rose  and  fern 
I  gathered  from  my  garden, 
Their  secrets  deep  to  learn; 
I  plucked  a  dainty  flower, 
Now  what  do  you  suppose? 
This  sweetest  little  flower 
Was  a  prim  primrose. 


She  turned  her  head  so  sagely, 
And  gently  said  to  me, 
"I  am  growing  in  your  garden 
That  you  might  wiser  be. 
I  smile  on  every  hour 
And  long  ago  I  chose 
To  be  a  guiding  flower." 
Breathed  this  prim  primrose. 

She  dropped  her  eyes  demurely 

And  spoke  again  to  me ; 

"I  am  growing  in  your  garden 

That  you  might  happy  be. 

The  secret  of  my  growing 

Is  the  love  that  holds  me  close." 

I  kissed  this  rarest  flower. 

My  prim  primrose. 


-37— 


Over  On  Lake  Washington. 

Daddy  bought  a  piece  of  land 
That  had  a  beach  with  shining  sand; 
And  oh  we  children  had  such  fun! 
Over  on  Lake  Washington. 

Gibralter  was  our  landing  place, 
Goal  of  a  jolly  swimming  race; 
We  used  to  have  the  greatest  fun! 
Over  on  Lake  Washington. 

Each  one  had  a  little  boat, 

We'd  row  and  race  and  sometimes  float; 

Oh  it  was  the  mostest  fun! 

Over  on  Lake  Washington. 

And  when  the  day  at  evening  stood, 
We  popped  some  corn  on  glowing  wood; 
And  always  had  the  greatest  fun! 
Over  on  Lake  Washington. 

Never  wished  to  go  to  bed. 
Wished  we  had  the  day  ahead; 
For  we  had  the  bestest  fun! 
Over  on  Lake  Washington. 


—38- 


My  Oratorio. 


My  little  bird  and  I 
Thought  we  would  like  to  try- 
To  sing  a  song  that  everyone  would  please; 
So  he  hopped  down  close  to  me, 
Just  as  happy  as  could  be, 
And  looked  as  if  he  knew  melodeon  keys. 

We  listened  for  a  tune, 

It  drifted  to  us  soon. 

It  came  in  thru  the  window  on  a  breeze; 

And  we  caught  it  so  that  we 

Could  sing  it  happily 

On  Grandma's  little  old  melodeon  keys. 


—39- 


We  heard  a  measured  strain 

From  falling  drops  of  rain, 

We  heard  some  plaintive  notes  come  from  the  trees; 

Then  came  a  silvery  sound 

That  held  us  both  spell-bound, 

It  came  from  Grandma's  old  melodeon  keys. 

A  rondo  minor-toned 

From  winds  that  crept  and  moaned, 

They  blew  the  flowers  down  on  bended  knees; 

And  then  a  soft  breeze  came 

That  put  them  all  to  shame, 

For  it  kissed  the  little  old  melodeon  keys. 

A  warble,  hum  and  chant 

From  bird  and  bee  and  plant, 

It  seemed  as  if  the  songs  would  never  cease; 

They  sang  both  high  and  low 

An  oratorio 

On  Grandma's  treasured  old  melodeon  keys. 


—40— 


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